


Shining How We Want (Brighter Than the Sun)

by fadedink



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chuck Lives, F/M, Female Raleigh Becket, M/M, Multi, Sibling Incest, Yancy Becket Lives, Yancy's a bit of an asshole, but then so is Raleigh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:52:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5012404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedink/pseuds/fadedink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can't help wondering what will happen now.  What will happen when the kaiju come and there are no more Shatterdomes to launch Jaegers?  What will happen when there are no more Jaegers to fight the things that go bump in the night?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yancy lives, Raleigh's a girl, and Chuck lives. Pretty much exactly what it says on the tin. This fic is fully written but I'm posting it in chapters because I'm editing as I go (30K+ is a lot to read over and edit), but hopefully I can get a chapter up a week. The first chapter is short, but I promise that the rest are all at _least_ twice as long. :)
> 
> Title is from "Brighter Than the Sun" by Colbie Caillat.

**April 2024**

"Yancy, Yancy, Yancy," Raleigh sing-songs as she bounces into their shared quarters and stops. Yancy is (to no one's surprise) sprawled out on the top bunk, sound asleep. "Yaaaaaaaaaaancyyyyyyyyyyy!"

Her hands do a little tap dance on the mattress beside his head, then his cheeks before moving to the front of his face when he starts batting at her. "Rals," he groans, smacking at her hands again. "Come on, lemme sleep."

"Sleep your life away, big bro," she says and steps up onto her bunk to press a kiss to his forehead before he can pull the pillow over his face. "Rise and shine, Yance, big news, you're gonna wanna hear this."

"Whuzzat?" Yancy peers out from beneath the pillow, one eye half-open, the other still firmly shut.

"They're shutting us down," she says as she drops into one of the chairs and props her feet on the tiny thing they call a coffee table. "They're closing all the 'domes. The U.N.'s pulling the plug on our funding."

"What?" She watches Yancy sit up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, looking so adorably confused that she wants to laugh. "Shutting... I don't understand."

"Retirement, Yance. They're retiring the Jaegers and putting all the money into that stupid damn wall of theirs," she says. The anger bubbling inside bleeds into her words. Stupid, _stupid_ politicians and their bullshit and posturing and back room deals and _lies_. "Supposed it makes the civilians feel safer."

"But..." Yancy trails off and rubs at his face one last time before swinging his legs off the bed and landing on the floor. "They should know better. The kaiju keep getting bigger and –"

"Yeah, well, they're not the ones that have to face the bastards, are they?" Raleigh tucks a long strand of hair behind one ear and picks at a fingernail. Anything to keep from looking at Yancy standing there in his boxers, bare feet curling against the cold floor, hair sticking up in a dozen places. "Marshal's been upstairs talking to them, and Colonel Hansen and Tendo are there, but it doesn't look good."

"Idiots," Yancy breathes. He reaches for his jeans, stepping into them and yanking them up before turning to face her again. "So what happens?"

"Dunno," she shrugs. "All anyone knows is the Marshal's pissed as hell and ready to breathe fire, and word has the Ice Box going first."

"No shit," Yancy says. He looks like someone hit him in the head with a pole. Which, Raleigh has to admit, is most likely how she had looked when she'd heard. 

She has a feeling the entire Anchorage Shatterdome will wear that same look for the next few days. The next few weeks. The Ice Box has been the first stop for Rangers fresh out of the Academy for close to a decade. It's where they all get to experience their first drop, their first Drift. It's where they get poked and prodded and psychoanalyzed and then put through a physical routine that would make a U.S. Marine weep. And now it's closing.

She can't help wondering what will happen now. What will happen when the kaiju come and there are no more Shatterdomes to launch Jaegers? What will happen when there are no more Jaegers to fight the things that go bump in the night? 

Raleigh already knows she won't get an answer because there isn't one.

"What the hell's going to happen to us? To Gipsy?"

"That's a good question, big brother. That's a damn good question," Raleigh says. She lifts her eyes from her ragged nail and meets his gaze. "I just wish I had an answer."

"Me, too," Yancy says as he looks around their shared quarters like he's seeing it for the first time. He takes a deep breath, rakes a hand through his hair (which only succeeds in making it stick up in even more places), and reaches for a mostly clean shirt. "Guess we'll wing it like we always do."

"And everyone says you're the smart one," Raleigh laughs and winks when he gives her a dirty look.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Rangers, welcome to Hong Kong," comes a deep, British voice to their right as they climb out of the Sikorsky.
> 
> As one, Raleigh and Yancy pivot and straighten. Neither stands at attention because Marshal Stacker Pentecost might like doing things by the book, but he also knows his pilots and overlooks their idiosyncrasies as long as they obey their orders and do their jobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is curious, in my head, girl Raleigh looks an awful lot like Jennifer Lawrence.

**October 2024**

"Well, that's it," Raleigh says as she shrugs into her bomber jacket and looks around the room.

The Ice Box has been her home for the last seven years, give or take the months spent in Lima, Los Angeles, and Panama City, and she has to admit to a touch of sadness at the idea of leaving. Some of the most important events in her life have happened inside these walls and outside in the ocean that pounds the Alaskan shore.

In here is where she learned what she can do. Where she learned to not be afraid because Gipsy makes her a Titan. Where she learned that they can fight back and win because the world is worth fighting for.

And out there... Out there is where she learned who she really is when Gipsy was hip deep in the frigid Arctic waters, one arm gone because Knifehead wasn't quite dead and Yancy just this side of unconscious from the neural feedback and her body on fire, trying to move Gipsy by herself because she didn't have it in her to give up and die or let Yancy die. Out there is where she learned the true meaning of love and family and _hope_.

And now it's over, whether it's the right decision or not, because the U.N. was true to their word, pulling all major funding and giving only what was necessary to shut down the Jaeger program. Anchorage is just the first, but Lima and Tokyo are listed to follow by the end of the month. Then it'll be Panama City's turn, followed by the others until Sydney goes down just before the New Year.

No one is in any hurry to mothball the only Mark V they've ever built. And having seen the news clips of that Jaeger in action, Raleigh can't blame them.

Well, she can, but only because they're stupid and putting all their faith in a wall that everyone knows won't hold against repeated attacks. But the Marshal had talked until he was blue in the face, and then he'd quietly told the whole 'dome that they were no longer officially part of the PPDC.

There wasn't a single uniform to be found in the entire complex the morning following that statement.

And now they're on their way to Hong Kong because the Marshal is gathering his resources, pulling all the remaining Jaegers together, making them a true resistance instead of a standing army. Raleigh's okay with that. As long as she gets to climb into Gipsy Danger, drift with Yancy, and kick kaiju butt, she is more than okay with it.

Marshal Pentecost has promised that they will get to do just that.

Giving the room one final look, she hefts her duffel bag over her shoulder and heads for the helipad. It's a long flight to Hong Kong, but she's got company. Gipsy's entire crew will be on this last flight out, along with the skeleton crew of techs that have been responsible for packing up LOCCENT and the bays.

All of that adds up to one big party as far as she's concerned. And a thirteen hour flight in close quarters with Yancy and him unable to hide from her teasing? Well, that's just a good time no matter how she looks at it.

 

~

 

The next morning, the entire entourage stumbles bleary-eyed from the plane and manages to get themselves and their belongings across the tarmac to the helipad and into the Sikorskys waiting to take them to the Shatterdome. It's cold and raining, but not as cold as Raleigh had imagined.

But then, after growing up in Alaska, she knows she had a skewed version of cold.

It still doesn't stop her from trying to burrow inside Yancy's jacket – with him still in it – once they get on board the chopper. The techs with them don't even bat an eye. Familiarity with Jaegers and the Drift and its related side-effects has its perks.

Yancy, to his credit, doesn't complain. He just shifts around so he can get an arm around her and pull her close. "One of these days, Rals," he mutters into her hair, but she can feel his smile.

"Like everyone doesn't expect it," she replies, snuggling even closer, practically in his lap.

"In the 'domes, sure," he says, fingers finding and tugging the ends of her hair. "They know the Drift and how it works. Outside, though?"

And yes, he has a point. She can't argue with that, not even if she wanted to.

Inside the Shatterdomes – inside the entire Jaeger program – everyone is well aware of the sexual and psychosexual effects of the Drift. It's hard to be that deeply linked to someone and not have it spill over to some sort of physical expression. And since the old adage, the deeper the bond, the better you fight, is true, family members are tested first over other possible candidates.

And if that leads to certain taboos being broken, certain lines being crossed, well. That's just one of those things. You just shrug and go on with your day, because it is what it is and it hasn't yet affected any of the pilot teams. Besides, the Shatterdomes themselves have evolved into something close to one big incestuous family, anyway.

The Drift doesn't hide much.

But outside the 'domes, it's a different story. Taboos are still taboos, and there are lines you just don't cross if you're blood related. So they keep their mouths shut about that, answer the questions with the accepted stance, ignore the rumors, and that is that. The rest of the world doesn't need to know the dirty details about the men and women on the front lines.

"Penny for your thoughts," Yancy says, yanking her out of her reverie as the chopper lands.

"Why, you'll be in my head in a few hours," she replied, when she really wanted to say, _they're not worth that much, Yance_.

"Humor me," he says, smiling.

"Just thinking about how glad I am I wasn't a virgin the first time we drifted," she says, to the amusement of the techs sitting closest.

Yancy's cheeks turn pink, and he gives her an exasperated look. "I think it's a good thing that _neither_ of us was a virgin the first time we drifted," he says in that dry way of his that makes her roll her eyes.

Though he's probably right. The first time they'd drifted outside of the simulator (which, honestly, should have a disclaimer tacked to it so the cadets know it's _nothing_ like the real thing) had been eye-opening for both of them. And they'd fought the effects for days, neither one acknowledging the fact that they were still connected, still ghost-drifting, until she'd walked in one night to the sight of Yancy sprawled on his bunk, dick in his hand, looking so gorgeous and perfect that she never stopped to think that they _shouldn't_ , because he was a man, she was a woman, and they both wanted it.

The rest of the night had been even more eye-opening than that first drift.

 

~

 

"Rangers, welcome to Hong Kong," comes a deep, British voice to their right as they climb out of the Sikorsky.

As one, Raleigh and Yancy pivot and straighten. Neither stands at attention because Marshal Stacker Pentecost might like doing things by the book, but he also knows his pilots and overlooks their idiosyncrasies as long as they obey their orders and do their jobs.

"Marshal," they say, the double echo of their voices bringing something close to a smile to Pentecost's face. "Glad to be here, sir."

"Though we'd have preferred better circumstances," Yancy continues. "Sir, we going for the Breach again?"

"In due time, Mr. Becket," Pentecost says, and Yancy and Raleigh share a look. They both know it's all the answer they'll get until the Marshal is ready to give more. "Rangers, this is Mako Mori, one of our brightest, stationed in Tokyo before coming here last month. She's in charge of the Jaeger restoration project."

Jaeger restoration project? Raleigh raises her eyebrows and shares another look with Yancy. Then she turns her attention back to the small Japanese woman standing at attention beside Pentecost.

Mako wears her dark hair in a flattering bob (so different from Raleigh's own perpetually messy blonde waves that fall to mid-back), but there are bright blue streaks that brush her cheeks and jawline every time she moves her head. Kaiju blue, is Raleigh's first thought. Then she realizes that the other woman is speaking quietly to Pentecost in Japanese.

Raleigh has to fight to keep from laughing when she realizes that Mako has said that they're nothing like she had expected. They get that a _lot_.

" _Chigau no_?" Yancy asks, and Raleigh nearly chokes on her suppressed laughter as Mako's eyes go wide, her cheeks pink, and she ducks her head several times in a bow. And everyone says that Raleigh's the sassy, insubordinate one.

"Definitely worse," Raleigh whispers, making Yancy crack a grin.

It takes a few minutes to get that sorted out, but they manage it with a few more bows, a few compliments from both sides, and then they're on the move again. The techs have deserted them (and Raleigh knows exactly where Gipsy's crew have headed), so it's just the four of them and the two person Science Department on the elevator.

"Nice tat," Raleigh says, trying to get a closer look at the ink on, what was his name? Right. Newton – just call me Newt, only my mother calls me Doctor – Geiszler. "Is that Yamarashi?"

"Good eye," Newt replies as Yancy's elbow digs not so subtly into Raleigh's ribs. "Though you'd have to be a moron not to recognize him. He was 2500 tons of awesome."

"Yeah? Well, my brother and I took him down in 2017," Raleigh says, lifting her chin and clapping her hand on Yancy's shoulder. Yancy just looks bored. "Cut his head off, didn't we, Yance?"

"With a cargo crane cable," Yancy says, still looking bored, but she knows better.

More stuttering and stammering (accompanied by another patented Yancy elbow dig even though Raleigh hasn't says anything else) and apologies from the one who insists on being called Doctor, but there isn't any blood. Which, maybe, is a sign that they're growing up or something.

Seeing the look in Yancy's eyes as they step off the elevator and he fires a parting shot over his shoulder – "Or you can just blow 'em to chunks" – Raleigh opts for the 'or something'.

"Scientists," she says, falling into step with him, and he just nods, jaw clenched so tight she thinks it might break. "That's the whole science division? How desperate are we?"

"Not very," Pentecost says, leading them into the Shatterdome proper. "Not yet. But Hong Kong used to run six Jaegers out of these bays, and now we're down to six Jaegers in all."

Raleigh wants to ask what his definition of desperate is when he can look at the loss of twenty-six Jaegers as 'not very' (and she refuses to think about the pilots that have been lost along with those Jaegers), but she isn't stupid. A little crazy (you have to be to crawl inside a Conn-pod), a lot reckless (which is why Yancy is always called the 'natural pilot'), and hot-headed, but definitely not stupid.

Stupid Rangers don't last long.

They get the full tour, which consists of one Jaeger – Crimson Typhoon, piloted by the Wei triplets – a bunch of empty bays, and Gipsy's new home. In front of one of the empty bays, they find out that Cherno Alpha and the Kaidanovskys will arrive in a few weeks once Vladivostok is in the final stages of shutdown, and Striker Eureka, Echo Saber, and Vulcan Specter will follow by the end of the year when Sydney closes.

Until then, it's just them and the Weis.

"They're triplets, Yance," she whispers, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she watched the Weis dribbling a basketball in a complicated pattern. " _Identical_ triplets."

"Don't go there, Rals," Yancy says. He gives her a stern look, but the twinkle in his eyes kinda ruins it. "I don't want to see you in the middle of a Chinese puppy pile next time we drift."

"You'd rather see it in person?" she asks, dancing just out of reach of his hand.

"Brat," he says fondly as he turns back to watch the Weis. But he's smiling, so she comes back to his side, bumping his shoulder with hers and grinning when his hand comes up to yank her hair. "They couldn't handle you, anyway."


	3. Chapter 3

"Rangers, this is Marshal Stacker Pentecost –" Raleigh and Yancy look at each other and roll their eyes. That's their Marshall, strictly by the book even though there are no official ranks or regulations any longer. "— and this is simply a training exercise, to get you and Crimson Typhoon used to working with each other. Prepare for neural handshake."

"Initializing in three...two..." Tendo says, and their eyes watch the countdown.

As it hits "one", Raleigh looks at Yancy and winks.

_Not as cold here as I was expecting, hey Rals, put your pants back on, c'mon Raleigh, Rals, no, don't stop, just...yeah._  
Hey, Yance, Yance Yaaaancyyyyyy!  
The tattoo gun stings like a bitch when it cuts into the skin of his shoulder, branding Gipsy's wings onto his body, but he focuses on Raleigh in front of him, admiring her just finished tattoo in the mirror at her back, and he can't wait until it heals so he can trace it with his tongue.  
Nyuck, nyuck, nyuck.  
A balloon pops.  
Jasper's there, telling her to shut up, shut up, shut up, stop humming that stupid song, Rals, Yancy, make her stooooopppppp!  
A pillow to the face and feathers fly, laughter ringing through the room, Mom yelling up the stairs at them.  
God, the food here is way better than Anchorage.  
Comes from having an open port, no rationing, thank the Weis for that.  
The Weis. Identical physically in all ways. Personality, though, not so much. Definitely not so much. So, so different.  
A slide of skin over skin, not sure where she begins and they end, but it doesn't matter. Slick press, deep and slow and yes, there, like that, and she knows just enough Cantonese to ask for more, harder. They're good at taking direction.  
Almost as good as Yancy, but he knows her inside and out, better than anyone. 

"Raleigh! Fucksake," Yancy says as he opens his eyes and flashes her a look that's a little irritated and a lot amused. "I said no Chinese puppy piles!"

"Jealous," she says with a grin and a wink. She knows _exactly_ what he saw when the neural handshake initialized.

"God, I cannot take you anywhere," he grumbles good-naturedly as the comm line hisses open in their ears.

"How we doing in there?" Tendo asks from LOCCENT command, and Raleigh twists her wrist (dragging Yancy's into the move along with it) to give him a thumbs up with the Jaeger's giant hand.

"Doing good, Tendo," Yancy says, still giving Raleigh that look.

_Relax, Yance, they're down for a repeat. And once you get all those limbs sorted out..._

"Stop that," Yancy says after he closes the comm line. Moving in unison, they hit the switches to engage Gipsy's motor controls. "I thought you'd at least have the decency –"

"—to wait for you, yeah, I know," she says. "But you were busy."

"Don't even," he says, shaking a chastising finger at her but they're deep in the Drift, so Raleigh can feel the affection and lust coursing through him in equal measures.

"Gipsy, what's going on in there?"

"Nothing, Tendo," Yancy says, as Raleigh bites her lip to keep from laughing. He's so _proper_ sometimes. "Just Raleigh being a brat again."

"Is that all?" Tendo asks. "Neural handshake 100% and holding strong and steady.

Raleigh reminds herself to buy him a drink later. All that time spent in Anchorage, and Tendo is so blasé when it comes to whatever shenanigans occur. He's been the senior J-Tech officer for so long that pretty much nothing the pilots do surprises him. Raleigh only knows because of one really drunken night in Cabo when they'd all traded stories.

She's still looking for the event that _will_ surprise him.

"Gipsy Danger, ready to deploy," she says, and they start to walk.

***

They're still squabbling (in the way that only siblings can) ninety minutes later when Gipsy's crew comes in to help them out of their harnesses. Every other sentence is silent, a product of the ghost-drift, but the vocal parts are enough to amuse the hell out of their crew.

"I'm just saying, Yance, that –"

"Seriously, Rals? Last night? You couldn't wait _twelve_ hours? Or invite me?"

"You were _busy_ , though God knows what you were doing. Or was it a who? Where were you anyway? Because we looked."

"You looked?"

"All over the Dome."

"And I missed... Fuck!"

So see, you were going to be invited, but no. Vanishing act."

"No, no way, uh uh, don't dump this one on me."

"Rangers."

"Sir!" Raleigh and Yancy snap to attention, a leftover from the years when they'd had to don a uniform every day. When Raleigh realizes they both have their hands halfway to a salute, she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

From the corner of her eye, she can see Yancy doing the same.

Marshal Pentecost stands there for a moment, eyeing them, and the urge to fidget almost overwhelms her. Pentecost eyes them a few seconds longer, then nods. "Good work out there."

"Thank you, sir," they say, still in unison, before taking advantage of the silent dismissal.

"You think he knows?" she asks after they've turned the corner into the suiting area.

Yancy peels his thinking cap off and scrapes his fingers through his hair, tossing the cranial sleeve to one of the waiting techs before holding his arms out so they can start unfastening his outer armor. "Maybe?" he says, shrugging his shoulders in a slow roll when the chest pieces are pulled free. "Who knows with him, y'know? Tendo's always saying the Marshal knows more than he lets on."

Already down to her circuitry suit, Raleigh practically dances with impatience, because an hour and a half locked into a Pilot Motion Rig is an eternity, and she's hot and sweaty and wants a shower. And as much as she loves Gipsy, Raleigh is glad they don't have to ride her on a daily basis. It's bad enough that the time between kaiju is down from months to weeks now. Fingers pulling at the fastening of the skin tight fabric, automatically taking care with the gold circuitry that crawls over the exterior, she looks at Yancy.

"You think that's true?" she asks, pulling the neck of the circuitry suit out just enough so cool air can slip over her skin while one of the techs unzips her. It feels like a small slice of Heaven. "I mean, you know how Tendo is, and he likes to screw with our heads."

"I had taken that into account, yes," Yancy says. He peels the top of his circuitry suit off his body, letting it dangle around his waist as the techs work on his boots. "But the Marshal was a pilot, so... And rumor says he actually drifted with Colonel Hansen once."

Raleigh's jaw falls open and she stares at Yancy. Did he just... "Pentecost and _Herc_ Hansen?" she squeaks, sucking air into her lungs because just the idea, damn.

"So the rumor says."

Shimmying the rest of the way out of her circuitry suit, Raleigh chews on that for a moment. Pentecost and Hansen. Damn. Now that the idea is in her head, she can't stop thinking about it. Which is probably exactly what Yancy had intended. She narrows her eyes and looks at him, but he just looks back at her without any expression at all as the techs continue to move around them.

"You're an asshole," she finally says.

Yancy cracks a smile. "And now, for the rest of the day, you'll be picturing the Marshal and Colonel Hansen in a few of the positions you threw at me out there. Payback's a bitch, sis."


	4. Chapter 4

**late December 2024**

The entire Shatterdome is silent as they watch the events unfold in Sydney harbor. Mutavore had emerged from the Breach and made right for Sydney and the helicopter news crews had captured everything once the kaiju hit the Miracle Mile.

Echo Saber had barely slowed it down before being ripped in half, a quiet groan rippling through the mess hall as the head and torso sank into the water. Vulcan Specter, left alone, battled valiantly, but was no match for the massive beast. The cameras caught all of that, too, as the proud Jaeger was beaten into scrap before Mutavore was finished.

And the Wall...

The _amazing_ anti-kaiju Wall that the damn stupid politicians had based everything on, the Wall that made the civilians feel safe cowering behind it while the last of the Jaegers fought and died... The Wall crumbled in less than an hour.

It was karmic justice if anyone wants Raleigh's opinion.

"Fucking idiots," Yancy mutters from behind Raleigh, and she just nods. Nothing else needs to be said.

Yancy's hand is a warm weight on her shoulder, grounding her, and Raleigh half-turns towards him. She's tired of the reporters, spouting their numbers, their statistics. Tired of the dead Rangers being just names on a screen to those people. And she's tired of watching people she knows die in this damn war, sacrificing everything to keep the nightmare at bay one more day. Mostly, she's just tired of the war, the killing and dying, and the phantom aches in her body from the poundings they've taken inside Gipsy over the years.

A cheer rips through the crowded room, pulling her attention back to the screen.

Striker Eureka has been deployed.

Another cheer goes up as Striker meets Mutavore head on, halting the kaiju's progress through the city. They brawl, collapsing buildings around them, leaving a metric fuckton of collateral damage in their wake. And when Striker launches her K-Stunner missiles to take Mutavore down, the cheer is deafening.

Raleigh slips from Yancy's grip, knowing he won't notice because he's cheering just as loud as everyone else. But all Raleigh can think is, _why, why didn't they deploy Striker Eureka sooner_?

***

Yancy finds her an hour later, curled on her bunk and wrapped in one of his old sweaters. "Hey," he says quietly, hand wrapping around her shoulder. "Hey."

"Yance," she whispers, before curling tighter, fingers clutched in the thick wool of the sweater. Yancy just makes a soft sound.

"Come on, come here" he says, slipping his arms beneath her and pulling her towards him and off the bed until she's cradled against his chest. Yancy sits down on his bunk, holding her in his lap, maneuvering until he can lean against the wall. "Wanna talk about it?"

Raleigh shakes her head, twisting enough to wrap her arm around his shoulders. "No," she says, face pressed against his neck. "No."

She breathes deep, inhaling his scent, letting it fill her. The world starts to come back into focus, losing its soft edges, and Raleigh takes a hitching breath as her hand clutches Yancy's shoulder.

"Okay," Yancy says, his voice low, gentle, one hand sliding through her hair to cradle the back of her skull, the other curling loose over her hip. His lips touch her forehead, her eyes, soft and soothing, and his breath ghosts across her skin. "Okay. Shh, Rals, shh..."

"Why," she says, not expecting an answer. There is no answer, not one that is good enough. "They held Striker back."

"Fuck," Yancy sighs, resting his cheek against hers. "I asked Tendo about that. The Hansens were already on their way here. The chopper had to turn around, take 'em back to get suited and deployed."

"We're going to lose this war, aren't we?" she asks after a long moment. It's not the first time she's thought that (the first was in icy waters somewhere in the Bering Sea), but it's the first time she's put the thought into words. And she hates how weak it makes her sound.

"I don't know," Yancy replies, and she can hear the truth in his voice. "But I do know we'll go down fighting. We're Beckets, and we don't know how to quit."

"Tell me why we're doing this again," she says, and twists to straddle his lap. Her hands grip his shoulders as she looks into his eyes, already knowing what he'll say.

"Because you don't like people, but humanity's worth saving," he says, lips curving in the smile she loves so much.

"We're down to four."

Four Jaegers. Nine pilots. And God only knows how many days until the next attack.

"We're dying out there, Yance. And they're building a fucking _wall_!"

"I know, Rals, but we're still alive," he whispers, hands slipping beneath the hem of the sweater, easing it up to her hips, palms smoothing over bare skin. The look in his eyes when he realizes that she's wearing nothing but his sweater...

"I don't _feel_ alive," she says, kneading his shoulders, forehead resting against his. She just feels pissed. And tired.

"I know," Yancy says. His hands slide higher, to her waist, and she shivers as cool air kisses her skin. But his hands are there, big and strong and warm, and his lips cover hers with a soft exhale.

Yancy tastes of raspberry and mint, remnants of the hard candy he likes to eat, a habit pulled from her in the Drift. He's adopted that as easily as she's adopted his love of good whiskey. _Love you_ , she thinks as her hands slip between them, working at his buttons and zipper. _Loveyouloveyouloveyou_...

If there is one advantage to the Drift (one among thousands), it's that he knows what she's thinking almost before she does. As her hands work to free him, his hands move behind her back to open a condom packet. All without breaking the kiss.

"Rals," he whispers against her mouth, biting at her bottom lip before sliding his lips along her jaw, nipping at the soft skin there. She unrolls the condom over him, and he grasps her hips. "Raleigh...fuck..."

Then he's inside her, thick and hard, and Raleigh moans into the next kiss as she starts to rock in a lazy rhythm. His hips lift to meet hers, pushing up, pushing deeper, deep enough that Raleigh curls her toes into the blanket beneath them.

_Yes_ and _more, God, please_ , and his teeth scrape down her throat, across her collarbone where the sweater falls away, stretched out at the neck from years of wear, and Raleigh shudders. A ghost drift – drift hangover, whatever you want to call it – wraps around them like always until Raleigh can't tell where she ends and Yancy begins. It doesn't matter.

"Yance," she whispers in his ear, hips rolling, breath catching as his thumb finds her center and starts to rotate in slow circles. "Yance."

"Rals," he whispers back, head dropping to rest on her shoulder, muscles bunching beneath her hands as he gives her what she needs. What they both need. _Just this. Only this. That's all._

She slips into her release, clinging to him, wanting to make it last forever. Yancy follows just seconds later, arms tight around her, face buried in the curve of her shoulder as he gasps and trembles.

_Love you_ , she thinks, pressing small kisses to the side of his face as his breath rasps against her skin. She feels his smile.

"I know," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck before easing from her to remove the condom. "I know, baby."

Raleigh smiles, traces his face with her fingertips, smiling again when his teeth catch a finger and bite down gently. She curls into his side, warm and safe, and closes her eyes when he kisses the top of her head and whispers nonsense as he pulls the blanket over them.


	5. Chapter 5

It's the Weis' idea. Using a combination of Chinese, broken English, and charades, they'd laid out the idea in the mess hall. And someone, Raleigh doesn't know who, had said no. But then a Kaidanovsky (and fucked if Raleigh knows if it was Sasha or Aleksis since they both answer to Sasha and she's convinced they do it just to fuck with people) had chimed in and the matter was settled.

It isn't a wake for the fallen Rangers. It's a celebration that they had lived.

And yeah, Raleigh can totally roll with that.

Within the hour, everyone is changed and ready to go. Even Yancy, who'd argued a little to start, until Raleigh called him a pussy of an old man. She'd just laughed when he threatened to show her 'old'.

"You got rubbers?" He asks as he grabs his jacket.

"You think I need 'em?" She asks, knowing how much it annoys him when she answers a question with a question.

Yancy gives her a flat look. "I know you."

Raleigh just smirks at him and peels down one cup of her bra to show him the condom tucked there. Then she bends to finishing lacing her combat boots, deliberately flashing a peek of white ruffled panties beneath the short, pleated skirt she's decided to wear.

Straightening once more, she turns to face Yancy, and the look on his face is gratifying as fuck. Yeah, she knows she looks good in the short skirt and button down tied just beneath her bra, but it's always nice to have it acknowledged.

"Ready, big bro?" she asks, stepping in to drag her palm up his inseam, skipping back and laughing when he reaches for her. "Ah ah, behave, Yance. Later."

"Tease," he mutters, but he follows her from their room.

*

The club is exactly as the Weis had promised: loud, bright, and packed with a throng of sweaty, moving bodies. It is, in short, Heaven.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't," Yancy says in her ear, hand tight on her waist before letting go.

"Maybe," she replies, twisting to smile at him before leaning in to catch his bottom lip with her teeth, "I should be telling you that."

He just laughs and heads for the bar.

Raleigh throws herself into the crowd. There will be time for drinks later. Right now, she just wants to dance and have a good time and remind herself exactly who she is.

She's Raleigh fucking Becket, one half of one of the best Jaeger crews ever, and she is a fucking rock star. To hell with everything else.

The crowd welcomes her – some because she's young and hot, some because they recognize her – and she gives herself over to the frenzy. Her body moves with the music, shifting from one partner to the next, teasing and flirting, but always pulling back and leaving them wanting more.

It's a gift, she has to admit.

When hands settle on her hips, guiding her into a rhythm with the body behind her, Raleigh almost turns. But the hands aren't Yancy's. They're too strong, not quite callused enough, but they aren't _holding_ her. Just guiding.

So Raleigh lets it go and moves with him, grinding her hips against his.

_Behave_ , says Yancy's voice in his head, and she doesn't need to be connected to him to know what goes through his head. But she can see glimpses of him through the crowd, and big brother has no room to talk. Not with the way he's sandwiched between two hot little Asian numbers, letting them rub all over him. She gives him a thumbs up when he looks over, and he just looks at her, smiling as he shakes his head.

The songs bleed one into the next until Raleigh loses all meaning of time. The only thing that doesn't change is the mystery partner at her back. Suits Raleigh just fine, because the man knows how to dance, matching her move for move.

Without losing her rhythm, Raleigh twists to face him. One of his hands skims over her lower abdomen. The first thing she sees is a set of broad shoulders attached to two muscular arms and a hard chest that's encased in a tight black t-shirt.

Then she looks up, and hello. Blue-green eyes, a dimpled smile, a scattering of freckles across his nose, topped with dark red hair that is stuck to his forehead in sweaty strands. Well, well, well. 

Raleigh knows that face almost as well as she knows Yancy's.

His hands settle back at her hips, holding her close but not confining her (not that he can keep her there if she wants to leave, and they both know it), and they continue to move. It's eerie how in synch they are.

Eerie and exhilarating and, frankly, hot as hell, because the only other person that in tune with her is Yancy.

"Buy me a drink," she says, fisting his shirt and pulling him in her wake as she heads off the dance floor.

*

Raleigh leans against the bar and watches him watch her. She doesn't offer her name, just flashes a smile as he passes her a drink. She doesn't figure he needs her name any more than she needs his. She already knows his name.

Baby boy Hansen is all grown up, filled out, and looking _good_.

"What's a boy like you doing in a place like this?" she asks, grinning when he rolls his eyes.

"Same thing a girl like you is, I reckon," he says, and that accent trips along her nerves. God. "Looking for a good time."

Sipping her drink, she eyes him over the rim of the glass. Rumor says he's smart, arrogant, hot headed, and angry. And rumor might be right, but Raleigh bets there is a whole lot more to Chuck Hansen than meets the eye.

After all, everyone had said the same things about her not that long ago.

Chuck leans back, elbows on the bar, beer bottle dangling from his fingers. He gives her an appraisal that is frank, open, and very appreciative. Raleigh returns it with one of her own, sliding her hand up his arm to curl her fingers along his bicep. The muscle tightens under her touch, and Chuck smiles.

"So are you?" he asks, body twisting to face her, free hand drifting to her hip again. "Looking for a good time, I mean."

"Oh, I'm always looking for a good time, baby dingo," she says, grinning at the way his eyes tighten in reaction to the nickname. She tosses back the rest of the drink, savoring the warmth that spreads through her. "Kinda thinking I found it, though."

The slow smile that curves his lips is one of the dirtiest, most perfect things she's ever seen. "That so?"

"Maybe," she says. She takes his beer and smiles again, raking his body slowly with her eyes as she lifts the bottle to her mouth and takes a long swallow. She leans in, one hand braced on his arm as she goes on tiptoe to put her mouth near his ear. "Think you can keep up, dingo?"

With that, she spins and slips away through the crowd, heading back to the dance floor.

*

"You're up to something."

Raleigh keeps dancing, but turns to face Yancy. "I might be," she admits. "Why, you wanna join in?"

"Please," Yancy laughs as he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "I've got my hands full for the moment. Just...try not to do anything crazy?"

"No promises, Yance," she says and pats his cheek. The look he gives her is equal parts fondness, exasperation, and horror. In other words, a typical Yancy expression in the face of her exploits.

But he doesn't say a word, just kisses her cheek, touched his nose to hers, and melts away into the crowd.

The line of heat that prickles up her back makes Raleigh smile. "Took you long enough."

"Yeah, well," Chuck drawls in her ear, hands finding her hips again as his body falls into rhythm with hers once more, "I didn't want to interrupt you and golden boy there."

Her head falls back against his shoulder, her hands settling on top of his. "Nothing to interrupt."

"Good," Chuck says. His breath on her neck makes her skin pebble. "Do I need to worry about your brother?"

Raleigh just laughed. "You planning on doing something to make you need to worry about him?"

"Oh, I reckon I'm gonna do a lot of things to make me need to worry about him," he says, lips moving against her ear. "You okay with that?"

"And if I say no?" she asks, turning to face him, body pressing snug against his as they automatically adjust to the new position.

Chuck holds up both hands and smiles down at her. "No is no, love."

That's good to know. That is _very_ good to know. Raleigh tilts her head, licks her lips, and presses one hand flat to his chest over his heart. "Well, I'm not saying no," she says, brushing her lips over his before stepping back and turning away, putting a deliberate swagger in her step as she glances over her shoulder. "You coming?"

She doesn't make it five steps before Chuck's arm slides around her waist.

*

Her white shirt glows in the black lights of the hallway. Those same lights turn Chuck into a dark shadow, his teeth flashing every so often as he opens his mouth. "God," he whispers against her throat, the two of them stumbling together until her back hits the wall. "God..."

"Talk to Him later," Raleigh says, nudging his head up so she can get to his mouth.

Chuck kisses like he pilots Striker Eureka, all wild and untamed and raw, and something in Raleigh surges up to meet him. Sparks sizzle across her skin, dance down her spine, and she wants more.

"Fuck," he breathes, and she laughs.

"That's the idea," she says, teeth catching his earlobe, hands working under his shirt to smooth across warm skin and firm muscle.

They kiss again, teeth and lips and tongues clashing, and Raleigh has to pull back just to catch a breath. Chuck is no better, rocking against her, his own hands sliding over her skin, one coming up to cup a breast as the other slips down to stroke her thigh.

"God," he says again, lips sliding down her throat as her hand dips into his pants. He bucks against her as her fingers curl around his cock and stroke up, the angle killing her wrist, but the sounds he makes were too good for her to stop. "God, fuck..."

"Yeah," she says, biting her bottom lip and pressing her face against his shoulder when his hand curls over her, cupping her through the thin material of her panties. "C'mon, need..."

"Anything," Chuck says, fingers slipping beneath the cotton and gliding over her before pressing in and curling just right. "You have –"

She nods, not trusting herself to speak as his fingers work inside her. She has his cock completely free of his pants, hand working it with long strokes, but she can't see it. So Raleigh makes a mental note to repeat this later, somewhere with more light. And a bed. The bed is a must.

His fingers press deeper, twisting, and Raleigh's hips jerk as a moan spills from her lips. "God..."

"Later," Chuck says, laughing softly in her ear, nipping at the skin along her collarbone. "Where –"

She pulls the condom from her bra with her free hand, not ready to release the heavy weight of his cock just yet. She presses the condom against his palm, but somewhere in the transfer she loses her grip. Or Chuck does. The condom slips free to fall to the floor, swallowed by the darkness.

"Goddamnit," Chuck swears, pulling back to look at his feet. "Fuck."

Raleigh silently agrees. Her body screams for release. And yeah, it's stupid, and yeah, she's totally going to catch hell from Yancy later (deservedly so, she knows), but right now she just doesn't care. "You clean?" she asks, rocking against his hand as she continues to stroke him, giving his cock a gentle squeeze on each upstroke. "Chuck?"

"Yeah, I –" He groans deep in his throat. "Yeah."

"Me, too," she says, finally releasing him. Her arms wrap around his neck.

That is all the invitation Chuck needs. Either that or he just takes suggestion really well. Raleigh doesn't care. One second his fingers are buried deep inside her, the next his cock is.

He's thick, stretching her, drawing another moan as he slides in deep. Her breath hitches in her throat, before coming in soft pants and whimpers. His hands slide beneath her, lifting her, pulling her away from the wall until she wraps her legs around his hips. "Yeah," he says, starting to move in slow, measured thrusts. "Like that. Fuck, Raleigh..."

Yeah, that pretty much summed it up nicely.

"Come on," she says, one hand gripping tight along the back of his neck, the other clenched on his shoulder. She tries to roll her hips against him, using the wall at her back for leverage. "C'mon, wanna _feel_ it later..."

"Remember when...said I was gonna do a lot of things," Chuck says, his voice a low rasp in her ear, his hands tight on her hips as he picks up the pace. She whimpers as he pounds into her, giving her exactly what she wants. "Top...of the list..."

"Good," she says, and digs her nails into his skin as a small orgasm ripples through her, a larger one building, coiling deep inside her body.

"Yeah, God...fuck," he groans, nuzzling at her jaw, biting the curve of her throat. "Fuck...feel so good..."

"You, too," she manages, and the pressure builds until she knows the slightest thing will make her shatter.

Chuck lifts his head, thrusts deep, and kisses her. He swallows her cry when she comes, splintering into a million crystal sharp pieces, shuddering in his arms. Chuck comes a few thrusts later, still kissing her like he needs it to live, his body going stiff, muscles quivering under her hands as she strokes his neck, his back, to ease him through it.

"Fuck," he says, his voice a soft croak, and Raleigh laughs again.

"Yeah," she says, her own voice dry and rough. They're still tangled together, and it takes a few minutes to sort out which limbs belonged to whom, but then her feet are back on the ground. "We should split."

Chuck looks at her for a long moment, his expression indecipherable beneath the black lights. "Reckon so," he finally says before kissing her softly again. His hand finds hers. "You ready?"

"Always," she says, smiling when his teeth flash once more. She doesn't let go of his hand, not even when they merge back into the crowd to find the nearest exit.


	6. Chapter 6

"So when'd you get in?" Raleigh calls from the bathroom.

"Few hours ago," Chuck replies. "Tendo said everyone had hit one of the clubs, so I figured why the hell not. My old man's tied up in a meeting with Pentecost, and it was just me and Max. He's not much company after a long flight like that."

Raleigh leans against the door frame and watched him. He stands with his back to her, studying the wall of pictures she and Yancy had tacked up when they'd arrived in Hong Kong. And God, his back is a work of art, lean muscles rippling every time he moves. Raleigh can see the edges of a tattoo curved around the left side of his ribs. She tilts her head, trying to get a better look, and Chuck turns to catch her staring.

Raleigh just smiles.

"Damn," Chuck says, with a low whistle, smile wide as his gaze rakes her from head to toe. "You look bloody fantastic in my shirt."

"And you look better out of it." She crooks her finger.

Chuck strolls towards her, all sleek grace and leashed violence, and she likes it. He walks like he owns the world. It is, Raleigh has to admit, a huge turn-on. She meets him halfway, stopping him with a hand to the center of his chest.

"So tell me, Charlie—"

"It's Chuck."

" _Charlie_ ," she says and pats his chest before turning to sit on the bed. "You got your Jaeger inked on your ribs?"

"Striker?" Chuck twists and holds his arm up so she can get a good look. It's a beautiful tattoo of Striker in a fighting pose, all black lines and shading with hints of color here and there. He shrugs and sits down beside her so she can trace the ink with her fingers. "He's part of me."

She can totally understand that. From the first second she and Yancy had stepped into the Conn-Pod and made that first drop, Gipsy has been part of her soul. Even through Knifehead and almost dying and being grounded for over a year.

"Spoken like a true Ranger."

He chuckles softly. "Where's yours?"

Also spoken like a true Ranger. Raleigh grins and reaches up to pat her left shoulder. "Just her wings, though."

"Just like a girl," Chuck grins.

"You got something against girls?"

"No, I love 'em," Chuck says, still grinning, leaning back on his hands when she swings her leg over his lap and straddles his thighs. "Boys, too. I'm not picky, love."

Raleigh looks at him. "Not picky, hmm?" That smile is lethal (had to be the dimples), and it makes it impossible to tell if he's teasing or not. So she braces her hands on his knees and leans back just a bit, well aware that it pushes the swell of her breasts against the t-shirt. "I think I'm insulted."

"Not picky about gender," Chuck says. He sits up and wraps his arms around her waist, yanking her up tight against his body. "But people? Ray, I'm bloody picky as hell about them."

"It's Raleigh."

"If I can be Charlie, you can be Ray," he says softly, and yeah, okay, she can accept that. His lips touch her throat, and Raleigh shivers. She reaches for the hem of the t-shirt, but his hands stop her. "Nah, love, keep it on for this round."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Got all night to look my fill," he says, mouthing the words up her throat, along her jaw. And yeah, she can _totally_ accept that, because she is damn sure going to look her fill. And maybe tie him to her bed for a week or two.

"You know, we've all got training exercises in the morning," she says, gripping his hair in one fist and pulling his head up, smiling at his 'so?' expression. "Never drifted with a sex hangover."

"No? Well hell," Chuck smiles, slow and wicked. "That won't do."

"Not at all," she agrees. Leaning over, she reaches into the small drawer in the bedside table and pulls out a fistful of condoms. Chuck's expression is priceless.

"Think a lot of me, don't you?"

"You saying you can't keep up with a girl, Ranger Hansen?"

Chuck looks at her for a long moment, then laughs. "You're good," he says, taking the condoms from her and scattering all but one on the bed. "Your brother's gonna kill me."

"He'll try," Raleigh admits, sitting back far enough to get at Chuck's button and zipper.

"Then I guess it's up to you to make sure I die a happy man," Chuck says and leans in for another kiss.

*

"Okay, kiddos, we're testing the new upgrades to Gipsy's liquid synapse system," Tendo says through the comm. "You know the drill."

"So well we can do it in our sleep," Raleigh says as the techs finish bolting her and Yancy into the Pilot Motion Rig. "Is it just the synapse system?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Word on the street," Yancy says, "is that we got ourselves some new toys."

"You been listening to rumors, Becket boy?"

Yancy chuckles as Raleigh rolls her eyes. "That's not a no."

"Not a yes, either," Tendo says, grinning at them through the interface image. "Besides, think of this as a late Christmas gift. You just gotta find 'em."

"So there _are_ some," Raleigh crows, pumping her fist in the air. Enough with the chit chat, she wants the neural handshake and whatever modifications that Tendo has designed for them. "C'mon, Tendo, count us down."

"So impatient," Tendo laughs. "Alright, here we go, ladies and gents. Initializing neural handshake in five...four...three...two..."

As Tendo says "one," Raleigh takes a deep breath and closed her eyes. Showtime.

_Sunshine on her face, breeze in her hair, snow crunching under her boots. God, she misses Anchorage._  
Hey, Yancy! Yancy, wake up, wake up, first day of school!  
They're all bundled in the bed, a big tangled pile of arms and legs, and Jasper hogs the covers like always.  
A balloon pops.   
God, Charlie, fuck...harder, like that...yeah... Slipping, sliding together, bodies moving as one, and she can still feel it, a sweet ache deep in her muscles as she stretches.  
Pillowfight!  
Hey, Rals, look at this.   
He fits nicely between the two Asians – Sun and Jin – and if they want to argue over who gets to suck him off first, he isn't going to complain.  
We're not going to college. We're gonna be Rangers.  
He whirls around and around, holding Raleigh's hand, holding Jasper's hand, until they all fall onto the ground, breathless and laughing and so dizzy he thinks they'll be sick.  
Ray...Jesus, do that again...your brother's gonna kill me...  
Coffee burns his tongue.  
The taste of sweat on her tongue, salt tripping along her tastebuds as he thrusts into her again. And again. And again. 

Reality coalesces from the blue-white silence of the Drift. "Neural handshake strong and holding," Tendo says. "Now let's see... Whoa. Beckets, what's going on in there?"

_Jesus fuck, Rals, Chuck fucking Hansen? Isn't he, like, twelve?_

_Not now, Yance._ She gives him a look that he ignores. "Everything's fine, Tendo."

"Fine? You guys were pretty close to dropping out of alignment."

Raleigh looks at Yancy, finds him looking back at her with a shocked expression that matches her own. They have never dropped out of alignment, not since their first drop. They pride themselves on it. "We've got it."

"Seriously, Raleigh," Yancy says, deactivating the comm line and plunging them into silence. "Chuck Hansen? Have you paid any attention to what an arrogant little douchebag he is?"

"He's not," Raleigh says, giving him another look, one that says 'not now, don't have time for your shit,' but he ignores it as well. "God, Yance, if you're gonna believe the media, you're an arrogant little douchebag, too. We _all_ are. It's part of the territory."

"Yeah, but... fuck, Rals," Yancy sighs, giving her a dark look as she reopens the comm line to Tendo's asking them what the hell was happening. _At least tell me you didn't do it in my bed._

Raleigh ignores that. "No, we're good, Tendo, honest. Just having a little discussion in here, that's all. Private stuff."

"And you two couldn't do that before you suited up?" Tendo rolls his eyes and gives them both a hard look. "Good thing the Marshal's not here this morning. But you're about to embarrass yourselves in front of the Hansens."

"Charlie's there? Hi, Charlie!"

Chuck's face swims into view over Tendo's shoulder, and he grins and waves. "Morning, Ray. Uh, Yancy."

_Charlie? Ray? Oh, God, Raleigh..._ "Chuck," he says, and the neural link is flooded with annoyance and something Raleigh can't quite place, something with an odd, bitter aftertaste, like lust and need and jealousy all wrapped into one and coated in layer of denial. "Or is it Charlie?"

"Ah, Chuck's good, mate."

_Yancy, stop it. You've got no room to talk when the whole Dome knows how you welcomed the Kaidanovskys when they arrived._

_That was different._

_Oh? How so?_

_It just was._

_No. No, Yancy, you do not get to judge me for this. You don't even know him._

"Neural alignment at eighty-eight percent, guys," Tendo says, and he sounds nervous, concerned. "Whatever you're doing, can you put it on hold for the next half hour or so? Just so we can get through these tests."

"Sure thing, Tendo, sorry about that," Yancy says, but he doesn't look away from Raleigh. _We'll continue this later._

_No, we won't._

*

In retrospect, Raleigh knows she should have expected it because Yancy might be the calmer, more poised of their team, but he has his fair share of completely irrational, testosterone fueled moments. Their silent conversation had stopped, and it had been all business inside the Conn-Pod, but Yancy was an icy presence in the Drift. Not that she was much better, but still. She isn't the one over-reacting.

And then they turn the corner to the suiting area, and Chuck Hansen is there, leaning against the wall, a wide smile in place. That smile lasts exactly the same amount of time that it takes Raleigh to take four steps.

She knows, because that's the same amount of time that it takes Yancy to cross the space between them and punch Chuck right in the mouth. Oh, for...

"Damn it, Yancy, stop it!"

"What the hell, mate?"

"Keep your hands off my fucking sister!"

"Yer sister was a willing participant, ya dillweed!" Chuck wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and looks pissed at the smear of red there.

"Yancy, would you –"

A fist comes from the right, knocking Yancy back two steps. His expression is so startled that Raleigh almost laughs. Almost. Guess he didn't figure Chuck would fight back. Yancy shakes his head and launches himself at Chuck with a growl.

They pinball back and forth across the corridor, trading blows, and Raleigh just watches them. Tries to decide if she should be pissed off or amused.

Pissed off wins, because really. What the hell? Like she can't take care of herself? She's a fucking _Ranger_.

Asshole older brothers.

She tries to shove between them, one hand fisted in Chuck's jacket, the other scrabbling for a grip on Yancy's drivesuit. "Goddamnit, would you two _stop_ ," she snaps, pushing as hard as she can. "This is –"

Pain explodes through the side of her head. She sees stars for a second. Son of a bitch. One of them _hit_ her. That is it. Years of training in the Kwoon have honed her skills just as much as theirs, and just like when a kaiju tears into Gipsy, instinct takes over and she swings.

Her gloved fist catches flesh, eliciting a harsh grunt, and she swings again.

"Rangers!"

Stacker Pentecost's voice thunders through the hallway, and they freeze. Then there's a mad scramble to separate themselves, and Raleigh lifts her chin, refusing to look at her brother _or_ Chuck. Fucking idiots.

"In my office. Now."

Like recalcitrant school children, they file into the room in silence. But when Yancy steps forward and admits to throwing the first punch, Raleigh is speechless. When Stacker asks why, the three of them share a look and don't answer.

That earns them a dark look and a harsh lecture about being Rangers and acting like it. They nod, say "yes, sir," when appropriate, and make themselves scarce when he tells them all to get the hell out of his sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Chuck and Yancy get off to a bit of a rocky start, but that'll change. I promise. :)


	7. Chapter 7

_early January 2025_

It's two days before Raleigh speaks to Chuck again. She's kept herself busy, out of sight, and it's easy enough to avoid Chuck and Yancy both. Mostly because she can't talk to one without talking to the other, and if she talks to Yancy, well...

Raleigh has no wish to be grounded for punching her co-pilot in the face, even if he does deserve it.

So she stays away from them and works it through in her head. Or tries to.

Chuck corners her in the mess hall at lunch.

The room is crowded with all the Jaeger crews and half of LOCCENT. Pushing a pile of mashed potatoes around on her tray, Raleigh tries to concentrate on what Mako says about all the upgrades they're making on the different Jaegers to make them ready for whatever the Marshal has planned. But it's all white noise, just something to keep her ears busy while Raleigh tries not to think.

But when Mako goes silent, that gets Raleigh's attention. She looks up just as Chuck drops onto the bench across from her. He doesn't look at her at first, but shares a long look with Mako.

Without a word, Mako nods to him, then to Raleigh, collects her things and leaves. Raleigh watches her walk away. She'd call her a traitor, but she can't blame Mako.

After all, the entire Shatterdome knows that she and Yancy are fighting and that Chuck Hansen is smack in the middle of it.

She toys with the idea of getting up and leaving, but the last thing she wants to do is cause a scene and feed the gossip mongers. Besides, it's not Chuck that she's pissed at, even if he isn't exactly at the top of her best buddies list at the moment.

"I'm sorry," are the first words out of his mouth after Mako leaves.

Raleigh shakes her head. "Don't –"

"Look, I could've walked away, yeah?" Chuck shrugs and shifts his body to face her, his forearms braced on the table, hands clasped loosely in front of him.

"Yancy started it," she says, dropping her fork onto the tray and focusing on him. There's a raw looking cut over his left eye and a bruise running the entire length of his jaw on the right. A small bandage covers the bridge of his nose. His knuckles are banged up and, as she watches, he flexes his right hand.

"Doesn't matter who started it," Chuck says, ducking his head to catch her eye. "We both know why he hit me."

"No, we may _think_ we know why," Raleigh says, leaning forward so the people around them can't hear her, "but trust me when I tell you that Yancy doesn't care who I sleep with."

"So why –"

"Because he can be an overprotective ass of a big brother sometimes," Raleigh says with a shrug. It's nothing that's not common knowledge to anyone who has ever worked with them: she instigates and pushes, and Yancy is all Zen about it until he explodes, and then it's never for the reason anyone thinks.

"Is he jealous?" Chuck asks, and she stares at him.

"Um."

Chuck rubs the back of his neck and ducks his head. Fascinated, Raleigh watches as the tops of his ears turn red. "I, uh, I'm not good at this. Talking to people," he says, gesturing between them, head still down, "but he acted... I mean, the Drift, I know how it affects people sometimes, though, y'know, my dad and me, we never, but –"

"Charlie," she says, taking pity on him because the poor guy looks all sorts of miserable. She puts her hand over his and waits until he looks at her. "If you're asking if I've slept with Yancy, the answer is yes. Still am. Not every night, but yeah, it happens."

"Oh," Chuck says. He looks at her for a long moment, and she can see him trying to work that all out in his head. Then his shoulders relax and he nods. "So, is it possible? Him being jealous, I mean."

"With Yancy, anything's possible," she admits. And it is, but jealousy isn't like him. "Maybe if he thought you were a threat or that I really liked you...who knows."

"Do you?" Chuck asks and then clamps his lips tightly together. His ears turn red again. "I didn't mean –"

"Relax," she says, patting his hand and giving him a smile. "I don't know that I know you well enough to actually like you yet. I just know what I see on the TV."

"We could change that." A flush creeps up his neck, but he smiles, dimples flashing. "I mean, if you want. And if you don't think your brother's gonna try to rearrange my face again."

"Charlie Hansen," she says, charmed by this side of him, "you asking me on a date?"

"Maybe?" Chuck twists his hand to catch hers and brings it up to his mouth, grazing the knuckles with a light kiss. "I told you I'm not good at this, Ray."

Raleigh laughs. _Thoroughly_ charmed. "You're doing pretty good so far."

"Yeah?" Chuck grins at her. "So is that a yes?"

"That depends," she teases just because she can. "Are you asking?"

Chuck nods so hard she thinks he might hurt himself, then clears his throat. "Yeah. I am."

"Then that," Raleigh says, leaning up to gently bump her forehead against his, smiling the whole time, "is a yes."

*

Yancy finds her that night. More accurately, they find each other. She knows he's been in the Kwoon since dinner, beating up on rookies and working out, so Raleigh lingers in their quarters as midnight creeps closer.

After all, Yancy has to show up sooner or later. And since she spent the entire afternoon with Chuck, talking things through, letting him explain why he didn't walk away, she owes it to both Yancy and herself to at least let her idiot brother try to defend his actions.

Not that there is any defense, but still. Yancy is family – the only family she has left now that Jasper's vanished somewhere in the Canadian wilderness – and she loves him in spite of (and maybe because of) his flaws.

She's sitting on his bunk, legs crossed beneath her, when the door opens. Yancy's tank top is half off as he steps inside, and he stops with his arms still tangled in it when he sees her. He looks at her for a long moment, then throws his shirt towards the hamper. Neither one of them looks to see if it actually makes it or ends up on the floor somewhere in the general vicinity.

They watch each other in silence for several minutes. Raleigh makes a mental catalog of the still angry looking split in Yancy's lower lip, the ugly bruise crossing a set of his drivesuit scars from Knifehead, the raw scrape creasing one cheekbone, and the lines of exhaustion bracketing his eyes. And she can almost feel his dismay when he takes in her black eye that hasn't faded (and she's still not sure which one of them actually gave it to her, but she did just bull right into the middle of the fight, so she can't blame them).

"Hey," he finally says, still watching her, almost like he's afraid she'll rabbit if he takes his eyes off her for a second.

"Hey," she says, and takes a slow, deep breath. This is awkward. And she and Yancy have never been awkward, not even the first time they ended up in bed. "I –"

"I'm sorry," Yancy says, the words tumbling out before he presses his lips together. He wants to say more. She can see it in his eyes. But sometimes, like her (and like Chuck a little, she realizes), Yancy doesn't always know how to say things.

"For?" she asks, when part of her wants to brush it off, but they've never taken the easy road or given each other an easy escape. She's not sure they could even if they wanted to.

"I overreacted," Yancy quietly says as he takes two steps toward the beds.

"That's putting it a little mildly, don't you think," she says and almost sighs in relief at the dark look she receives. It's typical Yancy, saying _yeah, okay, maybe I deserved that_ and _could you cut me some fucking slack here_ and _God, you're such an annoying little shit sometimes_ all at the same time.

She's kinda missed that look.

"Raleigh," he begins, and then stops and shakes his head. "No, you're right. I completely overreacted, both in Gipsy when I lit into you, and then after when I started the fight. You didn't deserve that."

"Neither did Charlie," she says, because she's not about to let Yancy dodge that bullet. If he's got an issue with Chuck Hansen, it needs to be out in the open.

"Charlie." Yancy lets out a quiet sound that's almost a laugh, but not quite. It's full of annoyance and bitterness and yeah, a little regret. "Yeah, okay, he didn't deserve it, either. Neither one of you did. You're a big girl, and you can sleep with whomever you want."

He did not... He did. Raleigh gives him a dirty look, but doesn't say a word. She doesn't need to, because Yancy's smart (smarter than her), and he'll figure it out on his own. It takes him maybe thirty seconds.

"That's...fuck," he sighs, and drops into the room's lone chair, rubbing a hand over his face. "I didn't mean it like that, Rals. I'm not...giving you permission or whatever, so don't think that, okay? I just..."

She waits. And waits. Then uncrosses her legs and scoots to the edge of the bed. "You just?"

"This would be a lot easier in the Drift," he mutters. She knows he's right. But they don't have the Drift right now, and the weird mental connection they have (the one all co-pilots have if you believe Dr. Lightcap's lectures) seems to have taken a holiday. Yancy tips his head back against the chair and looks at her through half-closed lids (and honestly, he shouldn't look that good when she's this annoyed at him). "You're an adult. So's he, even if all I could see was that snotty kid from the Academy who thought he was better than everyone else. So if you want to... It's just. You're my sister, Rals. And I worry, okay? And yeah, maybe I get over-protective in ways I never did with Jas because you're a girl –"

"Are you jealous?" she asks, because he's building up a head of steam, and she wants them to stay focused on whatever it was that set him off in the first place. And damn Charlie for putting that idea into her head, because now she can't stop thinking about it.

Yancy sits there with his mouth hanging open, looking so startled that Raleigh has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. His expression shifts, slides into thoughtful, and his mouth slowly closes. "It's not –" He scratches his chin, which is a good sign, because it means he's actually thinking about the words coming out of his mouth. "You know this is about the condom, right?"

The condom? Raleigh opens her mouth to ask, but then she remembers. And it's her turn to sit there with her mouth open, because really. The fucking condom. "I get my shot every three months," she says, floundering a little, because Yancy already knows that. "You know that."

"I know. And I had the same Sex Ed class in the Academy that you did, and the same one Chuck should have had," Yancy says. "And we both know that nothing is ever one hundred percent effective. And I know you were in _that_ lecture where we were told, pretty damn bluntly, to take secondary precautions in pilot-pilot relationships because the neural handshake rewires our brains so God only knows what it does to our actual body chemistry."

She knows. She sat through the same classes and lectures that he did. And he's right. Hell, she knew it at the time, but there's something to be said for being desperate and horny. "I know," she says, lamely, "but it's not like you and I've used one every single time and –"

" _One_ time, Raleigh," he says, "and we both sweated blood for the three weeks it took to be sure we hadn't seriously fucked up. Since then –"

"I'm not pregnant, Yance," she says, because she thinks he needs to hear it. She knows she does.

"You sure?" Yancy asks, pinning her with look she's never seen before and can't decipher. "It's been three days. A test wouldn't even show up positive yet."

"Yancy," she says, one hand lifting and falling back to her lap. He's right and she knows it. But they can cross that bridge if, and when, they get to it. "Yance...you hit him because we didn't use a condom the first time?"

He makes a face at the reminder that it was definitely more than once, but she knows _that_ face. It's the one he gets when he wants her to think he's annoyed, but he isn't really. "Yes," he says before shaking his head. "No. Partially. I saw the two of you in the Drift."

"I know," she says, confused as to where he's going with this. "I _was_ there."

"No, Raleigh, I _saw_ you," Yancy says, quietly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "How he was with you, how you were with him..." He huffs out a quiet laugh that sounds more resigned than amused. "I _know_ you. And you might have just met him, but you like him. And he likes you."

"Yancy, it's –"

"Naomi," he says, even quieter than before, and that single name kills the thoughts circling Raleigh's brain.

Naomi. The reporter that Yancy had seemed slightly serious about, years ago, before Knifehead. The girl that had decided being involved with a Jaeger pilot wasn't worth the stress and worry suffered each time the team was deployed. The only person Raleigh had ever felt threatened by, even as she'd wanted Yancy to be happy.

"But..." Raleigh trails off, unsure what to say. Naomi explains everything. And nothing, really. "This isn't... I'm not..."

"The worst part?" Yancy looks down at his hands before finally lifting his eyes to hers again, his expression raw and open. "I'm not sure if _he_ is Naomi or if _you_ are."

"Oh," she says, confused. She's Naomi? But that doesn't –

Oh. _Oh_. Well, fuck. Raleigh stares at Yancy with wide eyes, feeling like she's been pole-axed even as she realizes the conversation's come full circle to her question of his jealousy. Only, she didn't expect it to be answered quite like this.

"Um," she says, because she can't think of anything else to say. Then, "is it the Drift?"

Because it's a viable possibility. They pick up things from each other, blending them into their own personalities and habits until neither is sure where bits of one begin and parts of the other end. It's something they've grown used to over the years.

"No," Yancy says, and gives her a tired, honest smile. "I'm pretty sure it's Chuck."

Oh.


End file.
